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March 4, 2005

Horsing Around

Sprocket's Journal

Uktar 23, 1373 DR, Thornhold

Moments later, someone climbed out of the lake of magma. For one brief moment, I wondered if it was Bryrgar somehow, but though it was about dwarven height it looked to be at least 400 lbs., not to mention it was being very undwarf-like by giggling insanely as it ran, burning, off into the night, not towards Thornhold, but more in the direction of Pommeville. Nosila obviously took offense to this creature, as she dumped the half-fiend’s corpse and the unconscious Darvin off of his warhorse, jumped onto it, and galloped off before Maiyr or I could even react. We stood there on the road a moment more, and then realized it wouldn’t do for Nosila to have to fight the thing alone, so we rolled Darvin and the dead creature into a nearby copse and ran towards the departing barbarian woman.

We caught up to them on a farmstead. The magma creature had already set the barn on fire, killed one farmer and managed to light the farmhouse as well. Animals, rescued from the fiery barn, where running in all directions. I thought everyone was out and trying to get water to put out the little fires sprouting up everywhere, but I ran around to the back of the farmhouse to find Nosila catching children jumping from an upstairs window and sitting them on the warhorse for safe keeping. I attempted to stun the magmin by tossing the illusion of a wave of water over it— apparently not believable enough, even with Maiyr attempting to throw a real bucket of water on it at the same time. In fact, the water evaporated before hitting the creature. Widget suggested that I try something more realistic, like a rain cloud. I did that, but I fear it didn’t help matters any, as it ran into the already smoldering farmhouse, creating more fire as it moved!

I chased it through the house with the rain cloud, but it was soon beyond my reach with that spell. It was out the front door and heading off at fast run— I feared it would reach the next farm before we could stop it. As much as I hated to do it, I cast a few magic missiles at it, killing it outright. It puddled into a formless pile of slag as the fire went out of it.

It had to be done, but in another time and place, I would have liked to talk to it— perhaps it could have been coaxed to help us, or at least, help our departed halfling friend.

We hurried back to pick up Darvin and the dead hag, and collected the warhorse from the grateful family who’d been rescued with it. I noticed the horse had the outline of a hand burned onto one flank— poor thing must have been touched by the magmin. We decided to contact Lord Taricz immediately, in spite of the waning hour. We were worried that people in the town would be angry about the death of the Maiden of Pain, but thankfully, the opposite was the case. Lord Taricz welcomed us with open arms and invited us to stay in the keep. We left Darvin with one of the local healers recommended by Lord Taricz, then headed to the Gilded Gelding to relax for a bit. The gnomish tavern keeper Northrup told us our money was no good there and gave us much food and ale as we could handle. Actually, maybe more than we could handle. I think Widget was the only one that didn’t feel the effects of all the ale (I don’t know where he puts it!). Maiyr decided he needed to go see the ghost of Roscoe and put him out of his misery. He staggered out of the inn with Nosila, Widget and I following and trying to talk him out of it. Nosila whispered to me to make the elf think the ghost came to him, so I made an illusion of what I hoped would pass for the ghostly figure we’d seen earlier. I guess it did— or at least, it did to someone as drunk as our elven friend. He made a few attempts to hit the ghost with his scimitars, but only managed to throw each weapon off in opposite directions, and then fall on his backside in the middle of the empty street. I rather enjoyed taunting him with the imaginary halfling (now making humorous faces), but I feared Maiyr would be attacking the illusion all night. I had it appear to “merge” with the elf, occasionally making a giggling sound erupt from somewhere in his midsection, or wave a translucent blue arm in front of him (while sticking out of his chest). I was tired and had some studying to do, so I left Maiyr there with Nosila, who planned to bring him up to the keep when he passed out completely.

Before resting, I identified the little fan we’d found on the Maiden of Pain— it magically creates a brief gust of wind. The night was blissfully eventful. In the morning, Widget wandered off to wherever Nosila was resting, bringing back a gold ring— something else we’d not yet identified. It turned out to be a ring that provides magical protection— and here we’ve had it for weeks without her wearing it! Widget wandered back to where she was sleeping and shoved it on her finger, and came back bruxing and looking quite pleased with himself— apparently he got a kiss on the nose for his trouble.

I noticed we had settled on fiery red hair and fur for the day— I wish I could figure out what causes those color changes so I’d know what to expect!

Darvin is conscious again, or at least ambulatory, as I saw him wander past my open door. Why is it that humans walk around naked when indoors? I’ve never seen another race so immodest. He’s also very loud— he went by again (later) yelling about handprints on his horse. I’m sure there was only one.

We spent the rest of the day recuperating and occasionally talking to the Lord and his comrades that were arriving to travel to Pommeville. I managed to sell some of our more expensive (and useless) finds like that divine wand and scrolls none of my party could use. We got a Bag of Holding out of the deal (we don’t have to feel quite as guilty when Nosila lugs all of our loot around now) along with a good deal of coin. Widget must think he’s rich— I’ve seen him tipping guards (and even Lord Taricz himself) with copper coins. Nosila gave a good portion of her share of the gold to the family whose farm burned down. Especially sweet of her since I doubt there are many farms on Chult. Now I only need decide whether to share a horse with Nosila, or attempt to ride one on my own— Widget thinks it would be best to share a ride— he’s probably right. Or maybe he just wants to see how much stuff we can pack in the Bag of Holding.

Posted by Kristin at 17:03 | Sprocket’s Journal